Birds of Prey
by Starwind Rohana
Summary: A very AU story focusing on Tom, Jordan, and Sara. The Animorphs have all been taken, but still there is some hope for the world, even if it is manifesting in the form of one exController and his preteen cousins. On second thoughts, we're doomed.
1. Chapter 1

Birds of Prey

An Animorphs Story

Disclaimer: Animorphs belongs to K.A.Applegate; I'm just playing with a few of the characters.

Chapter One: Safety Line.

It was a while ago now when my young cousin Sara told me I was her safety line.

When I asked what she meant, she told me that a safety line was something firm and protective, something that she could grab on to when times were hard. She told me that I was her safety line because I was always there, reassuringly solid and comforting in the darkness. I was her one constant in a world gone mad.

Ouch. Can you say I had a lot to live up to?

When I thought about it, though, I realised that what she said was the truth. In a life suddenly torn away from its roots, where her mother, father, and sister had suddenly been snatched by an enemy she could barely understand, when she had been forced to flee for the hills with her only two remaining family members, I was the one thing that was always there. I comforted her when she woke screaming from nightmares. I found food for her and her one remaining sister. I scouted out shelter, so that the rain wouldn't fall on us, and I kept us hidden from our enemies. In short, I protected her.

This is not a story about the overarching story of the war. This is not a story about the great deeds and consequences that played out on some giant galactic chessboard. This is a story about our small, family part in it.

This is the story about how Sara came to call me her safety line.

My name is Tom. And my story starts with the Animorphs.


	2. Gyrfalcon

Disclaimer: I don't own the Animorphs, or any of their relatives.

Chapter Two: Gyrfalcon.

It started with the Yeerk pool, and the morphing cube, and the Animorphs.

I was in the Yeerk pool on the day they attacked, you see. They were trying to derail some impressive plan of Visser…Sixteen's, I think it was. It was one very complicated, very impressive plan –half the Earth-based invasion knew about it –with the minor flaw that, well, it could be completely ruined by, say, five wild animals and an alien crashing into the Yeerk pool and destroying most of the equipment and almost all of the carefully gathered data.

That, by the way, is exactly what happened. And it had the nice little twist that they decided to free all the involuntary Controllers they could in the process. I think their main aim was to cause extra chaos…at any rate, suddenly I was free, and in the mood to wreak some havoc. Yeah, me. A human.

You can't wreak much havoc as a human, and I wasn't all _that _interested in hanging around. So I grabbed a Dracon beam off some idiot, fired it at a couple of Taxxons, and bolted. At the time I had no idea that my brother was out there fighting. If I had, I might have stayed.

I got out of the Yeerk pool. I _ran _out of the Yeerk pool, not daring to look back. I could barely believe that I was actually leaving, and it was like looking back would stop it being real. As if…if I took my eyes off the stone steps, if I turned around to check if anyone was behind me, that would _make_ someone be behind me.

At any rate, with a bit of staggering and stumbling and luck, I made it out. Then I hung around at the BioFilter, I don't know why. But I was there when my brother, halfway through demorphing from tiger, came staggering out of the school supply closet with a couple of Hork-Bajir on his striped, shrinking tail.

I shot them. Two shots each, straight to the chest. Effective as you like. And my brother was still alive. And I was free.

I stared at him as he finished the transformation. As striped fur blended back into pale human skin. It was like I couldn't believe it. I mean, I _couldn't._ This was _Jake_, for goodness' sake. Not some Andalite warrior…Jake. The little kid brother I'd tried to protect.

He was my brother, and he'd demorphed from a _tiger_, of all things. I remembered seeing that tiger before, suddenly. You know how sometimes snapshots of your memories just shoot up into your mind? (I do. Yeerks are very good at pulling them up quickly. Usually unpleasant memories.) Well, right then I had an image of the first time I'd seen that tiger, in the Yeerk pool. I remembered running up the stairs. I remembered Visser Three knocking me _off_ the stairs.

And I remembered –very vaguely, seen only for a split second –the tiger leaping on the horrible eight-headed monster.

Of course. It all made sense suddenly. Who else would have done such a crazy, suicidal thing on my behalf? I would've done it for him.

I still would do it for him.

I reached out eventually and put a hand on his shoulder. I couldn't think of how to put my thoughts in order. I couldn't think of how to ask him all the questions in my mind. But I could touch him –_I_ could touch him –and we've always been close, so that was enough.

"Jake." My voice sounded cracked, hoarse. I was fighting back tears suddenly. My little brother had been fighting down there…

"Tom," Jake replied. He blinked a bit too rapidly, as though his eyes were wet. I guess we were both pretty emotional.

I don't know which of us reacted first. But when we heard the sounds in the tunnel –sounds of pursuit, of shouting voices –we kind of grabbed each other and ran. I grabbed his arm and shoulder –he was wearing some kind of Lycra shirt –and tried to hustle him down the corridor, while he grabbed a handful of my jacket and tried to drag _me_ away.

We both stubbornly refused to let go. The end result was both of us running, in a kind of staggering, crouching scurry, through the school building and out into the playground.

Despite the fact that we were getting our feet tangled up, and despite the fact that we kept banging into things such as walls, doors, and inconvenient desks, we were actually pretty speedy, _and_ pretty quiet. We could have gone into the Olympics for the 'running away from aliens while trying not to let them hear you' contest.

We finally slowed down several blocks away from the school. We ducked behind a dumpster and strained our ears for sound of pursuit, but we heard nothing. At least, nothing very close.

"Jake," I said, remembering where we'd been, "how come you're turning into a tiger to fight the Yeerks again?"

Jake stared at me for a moment. Then he laughed. It sounded just _slightly_ too high. Like he was on the edge of panicking.

"Oh, yeah, that. There was this guy named Elfangor…"

He gave me a very brief run through. Crash-landing Andalite prince, blue box, morphing power, crash-landing alien's little brother, some superdimensional guy that Jake didn't want to talk about, free Hork-Bajir, and a bunch of robots who pretended to be him/his friends when they were away (another thing he seemed strangely reluctant to go into). Sorry, did I say a _brief_ run-through? It lasted about ten minutes.

Finally, we decided that we'd made it out clean. With no further ado, we headed for Cassie's place, Jake morphing into an owl as we went.

There was a meeting. Four, five humans, a red-tailed hawk, and an alien, all standing in a barn. It was pretty weird. They basically went through what had happened. We discussed…what to do about the whole 'me being free' thing.

Then they went home. I guess we all figured it would end there.

Boy, how wrong we were.

((----))

The first thing any of us knew about the trouble was when Marco blundered into my window and woke me up.

(Come on!) he said urgently, demorphing from owl. "Got to get Jake!"

And with that, he barged out of my room and charged into Jake's.

I guess Jake was asleep. He certainly sounded grumpy.

A minute later, they both came crashing back into my room. By that point, Jake was just about coherent enough to explain that the Yeerks, apparently, were gathering data on the Animorphs' identities –no ideas _how_, but they were doing it –and we all had to get to Cassie's barn, fast. They didn't say why they needed me to tag along.

I found that out once we got there.

"You want me to _what?_" I yelped. Okay, so I lost my composure a bit.

Cassie looked frantic. It was very weird. I mean, I was standing in a barn with a frantic-looking girl in a leotard and two boys in bike shorts, and they were all asking me to take care of one of the greatest secrets known to mankind. Or a very small portion of it.

"Please," she said. "Look, I'd take it, but I'm needed out there. What if I get caught? We'd have hundreds of morph-capable hosts around! We need someone to take it and get it out of town, and the only non-Animorph who even _knows_ about all this is you. We need you to take it and get it out of here."

"Excuse me. You want me to take the morphing cube and run?"

"Take the cube, use it, and run," Jake corrected. "You'll need to be able to hide."

"Well, that's wonderful, then –"

TSEEEWWW!

TSEEEEWWW!

"Dracon beams!"

The edge of the barn began to smoulder.

After that, everything got rushed.

I don't remember much of the next few frantic hours, despite the fact that they started one of the most significant periods of my life. I remember it in flashes: The blue box glowing, Cassie's worried face, running along a road with Dracon fire behind me, Jake's voice as he told me how to morph clothing, the anxiety in Marco's eyes, Rachel's fierce battle cry, the weight of the box in my shirt, and an Andalite galloping to help a roaring grizzly bear.

What I can tell you is that they fought for about six hours. After five and a half hours, the Yeerks caught Marco and the tables began to turn on us. On me, too, because I'm a stubborn person. Abandon my brother? No. Instead of heading for the hills, I'd stayed in the city.

Anyway…six hours was when the real trouble began.

After that, well, I remember the part just before clearly enough.

I went to Rachel's house, don't ask me why. I went there because I'd seen Taxxons heading in that general direction, and I guess I didn't want to lose any more family members to the Yeerks. I thought maybe I could do something.

Turns out I could.

They were shooting at the house when I arrived. I got in through a window at the back. I ran up the stairs, two at a time. I was looking for someone, anyone.

I found Sara and Jordan.

They're my family, and let me tell you something –that side of the family breeds tough women. But Sara was eight, and Jordan was twelve, and they were both too young. Everything had happened too fast. They didn't have a clue why people were shooting at the house.

I found them huddled together in a room at the back, staring wide-eyed at the door. They seemed scared of _me_ when I came in.

"Tom?" Jordan said. "What's going on? What's _happening_?"

I didn't know what to say. I mean, I literally stood there, without a clue, staring at those two girls. And I might have gone on staring, except the front door crashed in right then.

"We have to go," I said gently. "Come on."

We bailed out of the window. I grabbed Sara's hand and dragged her through the back gate. I thumped my hand to the blue box in my jacket and picked up speed.

Behind us, something went up with a roar of flame. Jordan screamed something I couldn't hear. I was running, and they were running, and I glanced over my shoulder to see what had happened.

Dark hair, illuminated by dying flames. A face that had worn a cynical smirk now curved in a sneer. An aura of malice and arrogance.

Marco was barking orders to the Controllers.

I almost forgot to move. I knew they hadn't seen us yet. I knew we should get away while we could.

I could guess at what would happen next. The Yeerks would take everyone they could. Most likely they had already taken my parents, or soon would. They would take Naomi and Dan, and Cassie's parents. And they would come after us. They would come after me. They would know, soon, who had the blue box.

I wanted to stop them from taking my parents. But I also had another priority. I had Jordan and Sara with me, and I knew what my parents would say if I charged off on a rescue mission and they were taken.

In my mind, I began to form a plan.


	3. Fleeing

Disclaimer: Tom and his relatives don't belong to me, I'm just playing. Chris _is_ my creation, but don't worry, he's only there so they can get some convenient morphs.

Chapter Three: Fleeing.

The car was parked near our house. I grabbed the keys, shoved Jordan and Sara in, started the engine, and took off at just below the speed limit. I drove as randomly as I could while heading away from the carnage at their house and towards my destination.

"What's going on?" Jordan demanded from the back seat. "Why were those people shooting at our house?"

"Long story," I said, taking a left turn at dangerous speeds. Fortunately, there wasn't much traffic on the roads.

"What's happened to Mum?"

I hesitated. I really didn't want to tell them. They were kids. What kind of person enjoys telling a child that her mother has been stolen by parasitic aliens who will slither into her brain and take over her every action?

On the other hand, they deserved to know the truth. If I didn't tell them, they would find out soon enough. My half-formed plan depended on them understanding some of it.

"She's been kidnapped by aliens."

Jordan snorted. "Aliens aren't real. Are they?"

I gave her the brief version while keeping half my attention on the road. I didn't want anyone following us. Unfortunately, it turns out that I'm not a very good driver. I wasn't then and I'm even worse now. So the explanation got rather jumbled as I tried to avoid hitting trash cans, road signs, and other cars.

When I was done with all the important points, there was silence.

"But that makes no sense."

I sighed. "I know it doesn't, Jordan."

She apparently decided to drop the subject while alone with a madman. "So where are we going?"

"Friend of mine named Chris. He –well, his whole family are really fond of birds. Mostly birds of prey. I think they train some of them to hunt or something. At any rate, it's the safest place I can think of if we want to get bird morphs. Chris and his sister are at school, his dad works somewhere else, and his mum usually isn't there at this time of day. So we should be able to sneak in, sneak out, no damage done."

"Wait," Jordan interrupted. "You want us to turn into birds? Are you…Tom, are you trying to tell us that we're seriously…are you crazy?"

"Sometimes I feel like it," I muttered.

"People don't turn into birds," Sara explained.

I turned right, onto a long road out into the country. "Normally they don't, no." I tried to think –not easy when your mind is buzzing with anger and worry. "Sara, don't you think it would be nice to be a bird?"

"Yeah," Sara said.

"But it's _impossible,"_ Jordan insisted. "I mean, okay, if what you say is true maybe _you_ can do it, but sure as anything _I_ can't!"

I pulled the car over into a lay-by along the track that led to Chris's home. I climbed carefully into the back and dug around in my discarded jacket until I found the morphing cube, next to the stolen Dracon beam.

I held it out. "Touch it," I said quietly.

Jordan eyed me suspiciously, but Sara eagerly reached out to press her fingers against the side.

"Oh!" she said. "It tickled."

"Just a second," Jordan said. She leaned close and whispered, "What _is_ this?"

"It's a morphing cube."

Jordan looked hopelessly at it. "You mean those are…?"

"Yes, it's real. Just touch it, okay? Please. I've got a plan," I added, as Jordan still looked dubious.

"Better be a good one," she murmured. "We'll need a lot of luck getting Mum back."

My heart twisted savagely inside my chest. She sounded so _trusting_ that it hurt.

She didn't know what I had seen. She didn't know what I had planned. She didn't know that…that it would take a huge coincidence to get her mother back.

I controlled my face as I got back into the driver's seat. But there were tears running down my face as I drove slowly to the house. Tears for a life I'd left, for the people I was abandoning, for the world I'd already run away from. Tears for children who didn't understand, and who this war was absorbing.

The house was a regular house, a two-story building. The only thing that seemed out of place was the huge shed beside it. That was where the birds were kept.

We walked up to it. Jordan tried the handle. The door swung straight open.

Inside, there was a large, well-ventilated room. A skylight in the ceiling let the sun stream in. Twelve big cages were scattered around. In each one there was a bird of prey.

I stopped to read the label on the nearest cage. _Hen harrier, male, three years old._ I glanced at the bird inside, a light grey one with fierce eyes.

"Sara?" I called softly. "Would you like to morph this one?"

Sara rushed over and stared eagerly at the bird. She nodded. I dug the key out from under the cage and cautiously unlocked the door.

The bird flared its wings and screeched in warning.

"Sara, look out!"

The bird stabbed its head forwards. The vicious beak snapped at her fingers. Sara snatched her hand away with a cry of pain.

"How bad is it?" I asked, reaching for her hand.

"Hurts," she whimpered, showing me. The beak had sliced across her palm and cut into two of her fingers, but the cut wasn't dangerously deep. Still, it made me flinch. I didn't want to run the risk of an infection on top of everything else.

I reached carefully into the cage and made two unsuccessful grabs before I managed to get my hands around the bird's body, pinning the wings to its sides. I lifted it out while it pecked at my arms, and held it out to Sara.

"You have to…imagine the bird becoming part of you," I explained, as she tentatively placed her hand on the pale feathers. Focus on it, and think of all that going _into_ you."

The hen harrier stilled in my grasp as Sara acquired it. I put it back in the cage and took another look around the room.

There were plenty of birds, some of them falcons, and even a small eagle. Jordan was frowning with concentration, touching a greyish brown sparrowhawk. The beak jerked, then stopped millimetres from her hand. The bird went into the trance.

I knew what I was thinking of picking up.

"_It cost a mint,"_ Chris had said. _"Never mind the licence fee. She's a beauty, though. Dad's delighted. Going to train her up for the falconry exhibition in May."_

The gyrfalcon held pride of place. I eyed it warily. The thing had a beak like a thick boat hook, and the claws could rip tracks in me. I opened the cage door slowly and reached into the cage.

This time I didn't get snapped at –Chris's dad had apparently trained her not to bite humans. Instead, the bird edged around on its perch and flared to show its six-foot wingspan. Jordan gasped behind me.

I finally succeeded in touching the thick, black-speckled white plumage. The bird closed its eyes.

The gyrfalcon DNA entered my bloodstream.

I let out a shaky breath. I'd done it. We all had bird of prey morphs.

Five minutes later, we were all in the car, slowly driving out to the edge of the National Forest.

I parked on the road and got out. There were a few things I had to do now.

First, I dug a hole in the ground. It was difficult, but with the aid of a stick, and with a few plants to cover the evidence of the digging, I managed it. I put the blue box in the hole, concealed from human eyes. It would be safe there. I might need it in the future.

Secondly, the three of us took off what clothing we could. For the girls, that meant their shirts, since they had jumpers on. I also abandoned my socks and the jacket. We hid the assorted clothing under a bush, noted the location, and moved the car.

A couple more preparations were needed, and they took up valuable time. I was nervous the whole time, worried that a Controller would see us and realise what was going on.

Finally, we were ready.

I stashed the Dracon beam under a pile of junk. Probably unnecessary, given that we were still outside the city, but it made me feel more comfortable.

I took a deep breath. Jordan straightened up. Sara bit her lip and sucked at the cut on her hand.

I focused on the falcon DNA inside me.

And the three of us began to change.


	4. Soaring Eagles

Disclaimer: While I do own the story, I don't own the players.

Chapter three: Soaring eagles.

It was my first morph, and it was not pretty.

My feet changed first, reforming into the sharp, gripping talons of a bird of prey. Then the scales appeared, rippling up to my knees. My lips jutted forwards, becoming a curved, tearing beak. Then I began to shrink.

"That's creepy," Sara started to say, but was cut off when her mouth reshaped. Jordan was growing feathers, which flowed down from her head and arms, and was already sparrowhawk size.

I looked down at my arms. Patterns were drawn on the skin, like elaborate tattoos. Then they rose up into fully functional feathers. The arms themselves flattened and widened as they became wings. My eyesight telescoped until I could see very detail.

Then the bleeding scratches on my wrists sealed up.

I would have gasped, but I no longer had any way to do so. I heard an abrupt mental yelp from Sara.

(What?) Jordan asked sharply. Her mental voice sounded odd, entering my head without going through my ears. I'd have to get used to it.

(My hand), Sara stammered. (It isn't bleeding any more.)

(Um…wow,) I said. (Uh, I guess that's because…)

(Well?)

(I have no idea,) I admitted. (Still, it's a good thing, right?)

We completed our various morphs. I tested my legs and flared my wings. Yes, it felt a little weird –okay, so a lot weird. But it wasn't _too_ different. The eyes were great, making out shapes with incredible precision. The wings –

The gyrfalcon's mind exploded inside my own.

(Yah!) I cried in total shock, feeling instincts and animal desires twine into my own thoughts. I hadn't been expecting it. I hadn't realised that DNA codes for brain structure, and brain structure codes for basic instincts.

After I'd got over the shock, I realised that the falcon mind wasn't really all that powerful. It was directed and focused, yeah, but it didn't down me in fear or violence or anything like that. It was just there. It would do what it wanted if I let it –mostly, that involved hunting –but I could control it easily. I could use it.

A sparrowhawk was hopping on the ground, rustling its wings irritably.

(Jordan?) I asked, reasserting myself.

(Huh?) she replied. (Oh. Hey, Tom. You are making this bird very nervous.) She spotted Sara. (And _you_ are making it territorial.)

(Tom? Jordan?) Sara called shakily.

(You okay, Sara?) I hopped over to nudge at her with my beak. The hen harrier brain flipped out and Sara sprang away, flapping.

(Hey!) I shouted, taking off after her. (It's me, remember?)

The hen harrier slowed down. Truth to tell, the gyrfalcon wasn't all that interested in it. It knew the harrier could fight back. The falcon was more interested in rabbits.

Behind us, Jordan launched herself into the air. Her smaller, more nimble body rose faster than either of us, and soon she was above me.

(Hey,) she said, (there's a lot of warm air here. It's lifting me up.)

(Where?) A lift sounded like a good idea.

(Around to your left.)

I turned. Sara turned next to me, her smaller body swooping under mine. We swept over the road and (aah!) The air rose under my wings, sending me gently soaring skywards.

We turned in the air, circling around each other, laughing in amazement. Flying was worth it. The worry and stress of the last few hours soaked away. The land unrolled underneath me as we flew higher and higher. Behind was the national forest. In front was the city. Meadows and fields spread out all around. I glimpsed the sea far off to one side.

But we weren't just out here for fun. Reluctantly, I left the thermal, with the girls close beside me.

We were far above the town, but that didn't matter. With falcon eyes I could see every detail of the confusion down below. Most of the city was calm, untouched by battle. A few places were damaged, Dracon burns strafing the buildings. I moved back and forth, searching the streets for something.

And then I saw them. My parents.

They were a kilometre below me, being pulled along by Hork-Bajir –in the middle of the town! They were being dragged towards a building I recognised as being one of The Sharing clubs. My mother was struggling to get free. Dad was shouting at the Hork-Bajir.

(What _are_ those?) Jordan shouted in my head. I barely heard her. I was focused on the Controllers dragging my parents to their fate.

I had to stop it! I couldn't let them take Mum and Dad, I couldn't. I had to _do_ something!

Without conscious thought, I angled my wings.

(You girls stay here,) I said, and stooped.

Down I fell.

Down!

Diving towards the earth at what felt like a million miles an hour. Cutting the air like a white, wild arrow. Claws out ahead of me, beak poised to tear. I fell towards my parents and the Hork-Bajir with my mind in overdrive.

I focused on the alien holding my mother. I flared my wings.

Mum stumbled, struggling, as the Hork-Bajir pulled her through the door.

No!

Had to stop it!

Dad was pulled through.

I was too late. Too late to save them.

My wings opened. They caught the air and sent me gliding away, my free-fall turned into horizontal speed. I circled around, studying the building hopelessly. There was no obvious entrance that I could see. There was just a large window on one side, letting light fall across a tub slightly larger than a Jacuzzi…

(Mum!) Sara shrieked suddenly.

I staggered in the air, cutting back again to stare through the window. The Jacuzzi tub was full of greyish brown liquid, roiling with slugs. Yeerks in their natural state. My oppressors of three years were crammed into that miniature pool.

Standing off to one side, a Dracon beam held to her head, was Sara's mother, Naomi.

In one endless look I took in the Hork-Bajir in the room, one of them holding the weapon. I saw Rachel demorphing with a look of helpless fury on her face. I saw the door opening and my parents being dragged into the room.

I knew what would happen next.

(Don't look,) I said to Sara, swinging in front of her suddenly. (Don't look. Don't call out to them. If you speak, they'll know. They'll kill us.)

(What's going on?) Jordan cried, her voice hoarse with desperation and fear. (What's –?)

I kept my body between Sara and the window. I caught her shoulder and turned her away. I kept my own eyes trained on the horrible scene inside.

Rachel was dragged, fighting with all her strength, to the edge of the pool. A Hork-Bajir forced her head down as she tried to escape. Down under the surface of the liquid.

(No!) Jordan shouted in horror.

I knew exactly when the Yeerk made its connection with Rachel's brain. I saw her stop struggling, and calmly raise her head. I saw the arrogance of the Yeerk etched across her face.

They dragged Naomi forwards, fighting like a madwoman.

I watched. Jordan hovered beside me, her head turned to one side. She was shaking in the air, her grey-brown body rocking so much I thought that she would fall. Sara couldn't see.

Then my mum. Then my dad.

I was screaming inside, screaming and crying out with rage and pain. I was burning up with impotent anger, with hatred that couldn't find an outlet.

I had watched my parents being infested by Yeerks. And I hadn't done a thing about it.

I pulled away, not wanting to see any more. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't stand seeing those familiar faces and knowing that my parents weren't my parents any more.

I beat my wings as though I could fly away and leave my betrayal behind. I flapped and flapped, straining every muscle. I tried to escape from the bonds of reality, knowing I never could.

I dived, scraped gutters, lifted off again. I went as fast as I could, drawing a crazy path all over the city. I had nothing left, I had lost my family, and now my falcon eyesight seemed only like a curse. My wings couldn't help me. Everything I'd loved…gone.

A pale grey cloud rose in my left eye.

(Tom?) Sara said weakly.

I stopped my wild flight and turned to face her.

(Hey, Sara.) My voice came out rough.

(Is Mum gone forever?)

(Not forever,) Jordan said fiercely. She appeared behind Sara and hovered. (We'll rescue her. Won't we, Tom?)

(Yes,) I said. (We'll rescue all of them.)

_Everything I'd loved…gone. What was there left to live for?_

I could free my parents someday. But that would be a long time in coming. In the meantime, though, I had a new purpose in life.

I had to protect Jordan and Sara. I had to keep them alive and safe. We'd be safer, far safer, if the Yeerks didn't know we were alive.

My half-formed plan became more detailed.

We landed where I'd stashed the Dracon beam. We demorphed. The cuts stayed gone, I noticed through the fog of sorrow and anger in my mind. That was good. That meant –

I stopped, staring at my hand.

Then I picked up the Dracon beam, adjusted the power, and blasted my own finger off.


	5. Kamikaze Falcon

Disclaimer: I don't own Tom or his relatives, or any other characters, or the technology.

WARNING: This chapter contains detatched limbs. It is on the gory side.

Chapter four: Kamikaze falcon.

Sara screamed. Jordan clapped a hand over her sister's mouth, her wide eyes fixed on my hand. She pulled Sara into a hug. The younger girl hid her face in Jordan's shoulder.

I morphed the gyrfalcon. Then I demorphed back to human.

My finger was back in place.

Yes. Yes, it would work. I could do it. I could leave them their evidence. We could be safe, hidden.

"Jordan, look," I said.

She stared at my finger, and then her eyes flicked up to my face. "The morphing made it grow back." She touched my finger. "It repairs injuries. Look, Sara. It's okay." She studied me again.

"Tell me what you're planning," she said quietly.

"We'll be a lot safer if they think we're dead."

Jordan snorted. "That's obvious enough. But they might get suspicious if they don't find bodies. How are we going to make them think we're dead? They'll know we can morph."

"They don't know you can." I turned my gaze to Sara, who was huddled, shivering, on the tarmac. I wrapped one arm around her shoulder to support her. She felt terrifyingly small.

"Jordan…there's not much of a body left after an explosion."

Jordan's eyes narrowed.

"I see," she said quietly. "Hah. Inventive. And I suppose…no, that would work. So," her tone became conversational, "which place gets the demolition treatment?"

"Esfos Hub," I told her. "It matters to the Yeerks, but it's usually empty. I can make the explosion fairly small. It shouldn't hurt anyone outside. But first we'll need to make them think that we're going to do it."

Jordan nodded, frowning. "If they think we're desperate…" She swallowed. "I can't believe we're thinking about this."

I felt a jolt of pain inside me. "Mum'll be upset. And Dad…" I swallowed. My father would be extremely disappointed in me if he learned I'd killed myself and my two cousins, just to avoid the Yeerks. I wasn't sure if I could live with that, with my father thinking I'd done something awful. Ashamed of his own son.

"My parents too," Jordan said slowly. "But Rachel…she'll be glad they didn't get us, I think. I hope."

"Yeah."

We sat in silence. I held Sara's tiny, fragile body and wondered how it had come to this.

Jordan broke the silence. Her mind had plainly been working fast, maybe to avoid thinking about what had happened. "It'd be best if you called your parents. Asked for help, then pretended to figure it out. That way they'll think we're on the edge."

I nodded, my heart twisting again.

"Well," I said heavily, getting to my feet, "I guess I'd better find a pay phone."

There was one on the corner of a street not far into town. Newly dressed, I dialled my father's mobile phone number. I glared across the road at the few passing pedestrians as I waited for him to pick up.

A click. "Hello?" my father's voice said impatiently.

His voice. Not my father. "Dad?" I said, gripping the phone hard and trying to make my voice sound pleading.

"Tom!" He'd recognised my voice. "What's up?"

"Dad, it's an emergency. There were people shooting at Naomi's house. I've got Sara and Jordan out, but we really need help. Please, Dad."

"What kind of emergency? Is someone hurt?"

"Not exactly, it's –" A sound reached me. Something on my father's end. A scream of despair. One of the involuntary hosts at the Yeerk pool, crying out while they could.

I cut my sentence off. Took a deep, controlled breath. Let it out again. There it was.

"Dad," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. I was crying inside.

"Yes, Tom?"

"I can hear the screaming. Dad, I know you're in there. I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I…I love you. But I can't let them…I can't let them have a chance." I took another deep breath. "You won't have the morphing cube, Yeerk. And you won't have me. Never again."

I hung up before he could say anything. I stared at the dial, my eyes blurry. I wanted to cry. Jordan rested her shaking hand on my arm, and I barely felt it.

"Time to go," I whispered.

We got back in the car. I began to drive aimlessly, wandering around town. Deliberately, I went past one of the entrances to the Yeerk pool –the MacDonald's they have. I wanted at least one Yeerk to get a clue.

We worked out a few things in the car. Sara revived enough to make a suggestion, then slumped against Jordan again. I'd have thought she was asleep, except that her eyes were wide open.

It might have been shock. It probably was. And the thing was, I didn't know what to do about it. So I just drove.

Our school. Plenty of Controllers around. Enough to overhear us.

Surprise.

We jumped out.

"We can't just ditch the car!" Jordan hissed. "It'll get us there faster."

"It's a car. They'll follow us. You can't get a car down an alley. A car can't melt into the crowd."

Jordan snorted. "Yeah. The Controller crowd."

"Just because my parents –" I began.

"Yeah, and look at that!" Jordan exploded. "Man, they've probably traced the wires, they're after us." She began to pace. "I don't want that to happen, Tom."

"Death's better than being a Controller," I said to her back.

She spun to face me. She was very pale.

"Sara."

"It's still true."

"She's a kid. They won't...we can't..."

"Better to die without ever knowing…that." I shook my head. "They make Controllers out of kids, Jordan. Five year olds. Sara's eight."

Jordan shook her head. "No. I won't let you kill her. What if Rachel –"

"They've probably got Rachel too, now!" I snapped, cutting her off.

"No." Jordan tried for a laugh. "Not Rach –"

"Yes," I said. "Rachel. And she wouldn't want you to go with her."

Jordan stared at me, and nodded.

We dived back into the car.

Two more decoy conversations, at least one of which was overheard, and we were almost ready.

"You say it'll hurt them," Jordan said, looking at our destination.

"I think it will."

Jordan nodded grimly. I glanced at her sideways. Her hands and shoulders were shaking violently.

She was too young for this. She was far too young to have to deal with the fear. But she was coping. All things considered, she was coping pretty well.

We got out of the car and began to walk.

The tower was not too far away. We ducked down back roads to get there, acting as though we were trying to hide. We passed each other hopeless looks and pretended nothing was wrong when Sara was looking.

Esfos Hub is a small skyscraper in our town. It's not very crowed –the place is pretty isolated. There are a few Yeerk items on the top two floors, things that aren't common, but aren't serious enough for big security. You can get in easily. The tower is more or less abandoned.

There was a long, dimly lit staircase up inside.

The top floor wasn't all that well lit, either.

I pulled Sara to me and stroked her hair. "You know the plan?"

She nodded. Her teeth bit into her lip. I could see her eyes glittering with tears.

I switched the power settings and fired into her ankle.

Sara let out a scream of pain as the beam burned through muscle and bone, severing her foot. She screamed again as I let go and she fell backwards, unable to stand upright. She wriggled away from me, her face contorted. I reached out to try and calm her down.

Her concentration must have been good, because she started to morph the hen harrier, despite the fact that she was shrieking in pain. And, as the harrier DNA replaced her own, the scorched stump of her leg extended into a taloned foot.

Jordan held her arm out. Her dark eyes remained locked on mine as I brought the weapon up. I fired straight through her wrist.

And now for my part of this whole escapade.

I broke the window. The two birds flew out and promptly dodged to get above the building. I walked back over to the stairwell and dumped Jordan's hand and Sara's foot somewhere below the top two floors.

Then I blew my arm off.

It was the worst physical pain I'd ever experienced. No wonder Sara had screamed. The beam blasted through my muscle and bone, frying nerves and tissue as it went. It hurt a lot. Like someone had lit a fire in my shoulder.

Groaning with pain, dripping blood, I staggered up to the top floor again. I knelt down on the dusty floor and feverishly began to fiddle with the Dracon beam. I knew what I was doing, but it was hard to do it with only one hand.

I ripped the panel off and reconnected a few wires. I ripped a component out and shoved it down the barrel. I pulled the trigger and locked it in place.

I morphed. Fast. Even as I dropped it, I was morphing. I didn't have a lot of time. If I was still here when the Dracon beam finished its malfunction, I'd be dead.

I stumbled over to the window on half-formed feet. My broad, pointed wings spread wide and beat down. I hauled myself over the sill. Caught the air. Heard shouting from outside, in the street.

As the breeze caught my wings and helped me to rise, I glanced down. I could see people arriving at a run. A car pulled up, then another. I briefly saw Jake's face before the edge of the roof cut it off.

I flapped hard to gain altitude. Sara and Jordan were above me. I quickly gained on them. Hopefully, nobody would have seen us coming out. The street had been pretty empty –

The Dracon beam exploded below us.

The high-energy beam, refracted and rebounded, finally burst the casing, letting a torrent of energy loose. No external forces being applied, that energy quickly manifested itself in the form of an explosion.

The weapon was not large enough to deliver a very large burst of explosive energy. However, it was still quite enough to take the top two floors off.

A ball of flame came up towards us, carrying with it the remains of the roof. The heat rose under our wings and threw us higher, safely out of reach of the explosion. We flapped and lifted, gaining altitude, letting the city unroll underneath us.

I wanted to cry. But I was a gyrfalcon. Birds can't cry.

I had just ensured that my family would not expect my return. I had just abandoned the human race.

But I had Sara and Jordan to care for now.

They would have to be enough.


	6. Burned Feathers

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs, its characters, or any concepts or technology belonging to it

Disclaimer: I don't own _Animorphs_, its characters, or any concepts or technology belonging to it.

Chapter five: Burned feathers.

We landed in the forest. Cool earth reshaped under our bare feet. A breeze ruffled Sara's hair. Apart from birdsong and shifting branches, the wood was deeply, blessedly quiet. A soothing balm to my shattered mind.

Our clothes were where we'd left them. I dug up the blue box, dropped it into the drawstring bag I'd picked up, and turned back to the girls.

Jordan was moving with controlled intent, but her state of mind was betrayed by the occasional shake of her hand and the look in her eyes. She was horrified, afraid, and upset. The last few hours had drained her.

Sara wasn't much better. If anything, she was worse. She moved slowly, as if she were dreaming or…not really there. Her eyes were unfocused, didn't seem to fix on anything. It was like she barely registered the world around her. Right now she was sitting, staring into space, with her arms wrapped around her knees.

Goodness only knows what she was seeing.

I squatted down in front of her. "Hey," I said. "Sara."

"It won't work," Jordan said flatly.

I looked at her. Jordan didn't shift her gaze from what her hands were doing. "I've been trying to get her to talk for half an hour," she went on. "It's no use. She's like a zombie. She can't hear."

"Or else just won't react," I said, looking at Sara again. Her face was frighteningly blank.

I'd seen that look before. It scared me every time.

"Sara," I said, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "_Sara_. Listen to me, okay? Look at me. Can you hear me? Can you see me?"

Slowly, Sara's head lifted. Her haunted eyes stared past me, but at least she had responded.

Still talking softly, like she was a wounded animal, I helped her to her feet. Every movement she made was heavy and slow. I walked her over to Jordan, who straightened up, tossing the pouch over her shoulder.

"Let's go," she said harshly. She swiped a tear from her eyes and wrapped an arm around Sara's shoulders. "Come on, I'm ready."

We walked into the forest, away from the town, away from everything I'd ever known. I went in front, striding out as the memories broke in, painfully clear in my head, and then slowing down abruptly when I realised that I was outpacing the girls. It set up a jerky rhythm. Fast, fast, faster, stop, slow down, stop, slow, faster…

We wandered erratically through the darkening wood. It didn't matter if we meandered, we didn't have any particular destination in mind. All there was, was walking. All that existed was the expanse of vegetation and Jordan guiding Sara beside me.

I don't know why that girl stuck with me. After all, I'd just injured her and her sister, not to mention dragged them off on a crazy forest jaunt. And I hadn't been particularly helpful earlier. But I guess that in this new world, she thought that I was her best bet. Sara's, too.

Night was falling. The woods became darker, made it harder to see. The gleam of the first stars cut the sky above us.

Night was falling. And with it, came the cold.

I wouldn't have believed it if you'd told me. The darkening sky brought with it a drop in the temperature that almost made me think I was in Canada. The cold air hung around us, hammered through our shirts. Our bare feet were soon numb and stiff. I could have stood on a knife blade and wouldn't have noticed.

Jordan stumbled. Frozen, I turned to see how she was getting on. Her face was pale in the darkness.

"Sh-should have brought socks," she said through chattering teeth.

"Keep walking," I managed. "It'll keep you warmer."

A kind of sobbing sound reached my ears. My eyes went to Sara, hunched over her hands. The nightmarish conditions seemed to have woken her up. She looked at me and seemed to really see me.

I was surprised she didn't run away in terror. Jordan understood why I'd done everything, _just_. Sara was too young to know why I'd shot her.

"I'm c-cold," she said miserably.

"So am I," Jordan said.

"Shh," I said to Sara, being as comforting as I knew how. I wasn't much good at that child-calming stuff back then. Still, my tone of voice seemed to work. Sara focused on me.

"It's not far now," I said. "We'll find somewhere safe, and then we'll build a fire. The fire will warm us up," and I mentally added _and we can sleep without the risk of hypothermia._

"No blankets," Jordan said.

I shot her a glare. I was doing my best.

"Can't walk," Sara whimpered.

"Course you can." I took her hands in mine and straightened up. "Come on. This way…" I took a step backwards. Sara took a step forwards. I grinned at her.

We made laborious progress through the forest. I think by that time I was half dead on my feet. I'd narrowed the world down to Jordan and Sara, hard as crystal.

Sara stopped walking. I stared at her for a moment. Then I bent down and scooped her into my arms.

She was small, but she was heavy. Think about it: She was, what, just over four feet tall? It was like carrying a sack of potatoes. A small, warm-and-cold sack of potatoes, that stared with unseeing eyes…

Jordan took one heavy step after another. She'd gone numb inside. Shut off the emotions to cope with them later. She couldn't feel anything inside and out. Not a typical Jordan reaction, but right then I guess it was about the only one she could come up with.

I knew how she felt. Because I felt the same way.

I was exhausted and cold and if I let myself think about all the hate in my mind it was going to drown me.

There was a tree. There were two trees, in fact, growing with their branches tangled so that it made a loose kind of roof, and on one side those branches hung low and nearly touched the ground.

There were no caves to hide in. I figured that this place was as good as any to stop. I put Sara down, and a wave of dizziness washed through me.

There were matches in Jordan's pouch, and a few sheets of paper to help start a fire. We gathered the driest sticks we could find, guessing at their dampness by touching with numb fingers in a pitch-dark wood. We scrabbled blindly for twigs and small branches, and, with difficulty and a distinct lack of expertise, we built a fire.

It was not a very good fire. We just threw all the bits together in a jumble that first night. It took us almost a fortnight to slowly work out how to stack and start a fire. When we put a match to it, the blasted thing wouldn't light.

"I'll try the paper," Jordan said dully. She lit a sheet of it on fire, and shoved it carefully under the sticks, and finally, _finally,_ they burned.

--

I woke up lying on my back, stiff and cold and aching all over. There was a rock digging into my hip, a lump of earth under my shoulder, and a spider was making itself at home between my chin and my collarbone.

I chased the spider away and sat up, blinking heavily. Trees. I was in a forest. The remains of a fire smouldered on the ground among the leafmould. Sara was curled up on her side. Jordan slumped against a tree…

Then it hit me, the events of yesterday slamming into my mind like a jet plane.

A cry split the quiet morning air and sent birds flurrying out of the branches, but I didn't notice; I threw my head back and forward, grinding a hand against my eyes, and I screamed again. Mum, Dad, heck, Jake. Had I really, were they…? Had I really seen it? Someone tell me; please tell me that that nightmare hadn't happened…

Only it had. My family had been taken and here was the evidence of it –I was sleeping rough in the woods with my two kid cousins. Evidence: We were all dressed in shirts –and in my case a jacket –and athletics gear. Morphing clothes we'd used to flee in. Evidence: The blue box in the bag next to me.

Family, gone. What was left of it was right here. And all I had left of my parents were memories and the grief in my heart.

Jordan's eyes opened, closed, opened again. My cries had woken her up.

Sara looked dead.

I scrambled forwards, _fast_, and pressed a hand against her neck. Then against her chest, and this time there was a pulse. I fairly collapsed with relief.

Sara's eyes opened. She looked at me sleepily. A little confused, and I could see that right now she didn't remember. Her face was too peaceful.

For a moment I just knelt there, staring at her. Sara. Alive. My responsibility. Something, someone who I needed to keep safe.

"Tom?" she murmured.

""Yeah, it's me." I cleared my throat. "Um, sleep well? Are you hungry?"

Sara nodded slightly and frowned. "Why're we…in a wood?"

My mind went blank. I couldn't think what to say. I just smiled weakly at her and went to look for food.

There aren't any supermarkets in a forest. I was hopeless. I stared around, wandering through the trees, searching for anything edible. How did you tell what was edible, anyway? Nuts, berries, fruit, those were all edible, but there didn't seem to be any around. Meat? How would you cook it? Come to that, how do you get the meat out of the animal with no knife?

I spotted what looked like grass and tugged at it moodily. Huh. Maybe there would be maple trees and we could eat maple syrup…

I yanked the plant out of the ground. I frowned at the root.


	7. Birdsong

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters appearing herein

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters appearing herein. Anything they might do is a product of my imagination.

Chapter six: Birdsong.

Sara cried quietly into her hands and arms where she sat.

I wrapped an arm around her in a weak attempt at comfort and stared blankly into the low flames. Each quiet sob felt like it was driving a wedge into my heart. Sara's pain had come to the surface, and it mingled with my own.

Jordan huddled on Sara's other side, silent tears streaming down her face.

Wild carrots, that had been our breakfast. Two wild carrots. I'd dug around a bit more, but that had been it.

It wasn't nearly enough to stave off our hunger. It wasn't nearly enough to remove our grief.

I closed my eyes and tried to blunt back the pain. Being upset wouldn't help now. It wouldn't save Mum and Dad. It wouldn't help Jake. Crying wouldn't put food in our mouths and shelter over us.

We were out in the wilds now, off the chart. We had to focus everything on staying alive.

Twenty minutes later, we were walking again, in search of a better place to stay. We'd scattered the fire in a poor attempt to hide our passing. Now we were on the move.

Jordan stared ahead with a face set in stone, her jaw locked. I wasn't an idiot. I could see the anger deep inside her. The anger that I shared.

I had to kill the Yeerks. I had to –No! I took a deep breath. I had to keep the girls alive.

We walked and walked and walked. We could have flown. I'd brought string; we could have carried the box between us. But we didn't fly. Not that day, when we walked again for what felt like miles on aching feet. Not that night. Not while we slowly buried our grief inside us.

I woke up again on the second day after I'd blown up the tower. There was a raging hunger in my stomach. More importantly, my mouth and throat felt like a desert. I was desperately thirsty.

I cursed my stupidity. We didn't have any water! Thirst kills much faster than hunger does.

"Wake up," I said thickly. I sat up and shook Sara until she roused. "Wake up! We need to drink!"

Jordan reeled to her feet, making a strange rasping sound. "Can't boil water," she muttered. "No bowls."

"Water in town," I said impatiently. "Break in, drink from a tap."

But my mind, the part that was separate from the screaming thirst, had seen the flaw in that. Fly into town? Break into a house? The chances of being seen were far too high. I hadn't done everything just to be caught.

We morphed birds for the first time since the explosion. A headache was pounding behind my eyes. It vanished as I went into the gyrfalcon body. I was grateful. Leaving our shirts behind, we took to the air.

It was like I'd gone from a dark room into a beautiful garden. It was fantastic. I could have closed my eyes for the sheer joy of flight. I wanted to laugh.

We wheeled slowly and came together, skimming through the air. The sky cleared my brain.

(Here's an idea,) I said. (Look for streams. We can't get dependant on city water, okay? So we need to get used to stream water, if possible.)

(Stream water?) Sara sounded mildly disgusted. (Yuck.)

(That's not good for you,) Jordan said.

(Yeah, I know,) I said. (Streams aren't clean water. On the other hand, I figure cavemen managed. And we have to drink somehow.)

(There's water over there,) Sara said quietly. She pulled away, heading at right angles to the rising sun. (This way.)

Sara's water turned out to be a small, clear stream, running across a clearing in the forest. We landed on the banks and splashed in, stirring up mud, so eager to drink that we barely noticed.

I gulped water greedily, kneeling so my mouth was level with the surface. It felt good. My body relaxed.

There are things you take for granted in a house. Things like good food, clean water, warmth. Shelter is one comfort. Blankets are another.

I straightened up, gasping. Jordan was crouching in the stream. Her blonde hair –now dirty enough that it was hard to tell it had been blonde –was plastered to her neck and shoulders. Her red leotard had darkened to the colour of old blood. Sara was scooping water into her mouth with a look of bliss on her face. It made me smile just to see her so happy.

The water tasted strange. Kind of…less metallic, I guess. It's hard to say exactly, because…well, you don't know what to compare it to. The best way to put it is that water you get from a tap has chemicals put in and most of the taste taken out.

The water may have not been clean, but it was wonderful. It energised us. I stood up, picked Sara up under her arms, and swung her around in a circle. Water scattered out, glittering like tiny suns. Jordan jumped to her feet with a grin and tried to push me over.

My stomach rumbled, reminding me of seven missed meals. Sara sat up and announced, "Hungry now."

Jordan looked at the sky with a speculative expression.

"Spill, sparrowhawk," I said.

She shot me a glance. "_Sparrowhawk_?"

I shrugged. "I have this system. I have to give nicknames to anyone younger than me in the family."

Jordan grinned. "Okay, _gyrfalcon_. See up there?" She waved an arm at the sky. "I think they're ducks."

I shaded my eyes and followed her pointing hand. It could be, but…

I raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Want to go hunting?"

We splashed out of the water, flicking droplets out of our hair. There was a breeze up, ruffling the grass, and we rode it into the air.

Climbing proved to be hard, and, by the time we were high enough, the ducks had moved away. Not wanting to get lost, we hung around in the area. Just enjoying the air.

(Guys?) Sara said eventually. (Um…this bird doesn't like being high up.)

(Huh?) I was confused. (It doesn't like flying?)

(No, I…) Sara trailed off. (It likes the flying, but it want to be lower down. I think.)

(Actually, I'm getting the same feelings,) Jordan interjected. (Like…like I should be at tree level or something. At least, until I've eaten.)

I sighed. _Okay, first thing we do when we've found a place, start studying ornithology._

(All right, let's go down.)

I found the place where we'd left our stuff and began to descend. A slow, loopy spiral brought me down towards it, ruffling my feathers. I was a hundred metres or so above it…

(Hork-Bajir!)

Jordan's cry of warning caught me completely by surprise. I braked in mid air, going from graceful death to a jerking, clumsy thing with wings in about a quarter of a second. As I stared in shock at the fallen tree, I saw what she'd seen.

Hork-Bajir. One two-metre tall alien, prodding curiously at our things.

A trickle of knowledge made it into my paralysed brain. The morphing cube was down there. No way could we let the Hork-Bajir have it. It would get back to the Yeerks. And then the Yeerks would come after us.

I had to stop him. Only one problem: I had exactly one morph, the gyrfalcon. And a human cannot fight a Hork-Bajir. Not and win.

Only one thing to do.

(You two stay clear,) I said.

I took a deep breath. I angled my wings. And then, I dived.

It was crazy! It was insane! It was a big white bird with talons against a walking salad shooter. It was a dive at what might maybe reach thirty miles an hour from my altitude. It was an exact repeat of my utterly useless stoop a couple of days ago.

Only this one worked.

I adjusted my wings. I aimed for his eyes. I brought my talons forward, swept my wings back, and struck.

How he never noticed a six-foot bird swooping down on him, I'll never know.

My talons gouged his eyes, ruining them. He threw one bladed arm up at me with a bellow of rage and pain. I turned in the air fifteen feet away and landed.

He was in pain, blinded, and out of his area. But he was still able to hear just fine. As I demorphed cautiously, he turned around with another roar of rage and started toward me.

_Uh oh._ I stumbled backwards on mutating feet. The alien sped up, coming toward me.

And a greyish-brown hawk raked its talons at the back of his neck.

"Get his ears!" I shouted –way, way too late. Jordan swung away, and the Hork-Bajir took a slash at this invisible nuisance. Jordan hit the leaf litter a metre away and began to demorph, scrambling away as she did.

Fortunately, someone else had heard.

A sweep of pale grey dropped into the forest. As the Hork-Bajir leapt towards Jordan, smelling victory, Sara raked her talons awkwardly against the side of his head.

I ran to Jordan, kicking up dirt. She climbed to her feet, looking shaken. I helped her up and drew her back into the scant shelter of the forest. Sara had landed on the other side of the fallen tree.

The Hork-Bajir still stood. Bleeding from the head, he swung his face from side to side, searching for us with his one good ear. He took one tentative step.

He looked almost like a wounded dinosaur searching for food.

Barely breathing, Jordan and I backed away. The earth shifted under our feet. We didn't dare move faster than a snail's crawl. Only when a few trees and ten metres lay between us and the Hork-Bajir did we allow ourselves to relax.

"Sara," Jordan breathed.

"I'll get her," I whispered, and began to edge cautiously towards the tree.

The sound of something _thwack_ing through wood came through the forest and I froze. I was so focused on the noise that I almost didn't see the grey bird that flew down through the branches.

"Sara!" I said, relieved. I forgot to keep my voice down.

There was an ominous rumble from our makeshift campsite.

Three minutes later, we were all in the air.


	8. Owl's wings

Disclaimer: I don't own Animorphs or any properties thereof

Disclaimer: I don't own _Animorphs_ or any properties thereof.

Chapter seven: Owl.

(So,) Jordan said, looking down on the Hork-Bajir swinging his big bladed arms in the middle of our camp, (what are we going to do about him?)

It was a good question. Right now, none of us had a morph that could take on a Hork-Bajir and hope to come out alive. What was I saying? None of us had a morph that could take on a _Taxxon_ and really hope to survive.

We were three birds of prey. A hen harrier, a sparrowhawk, and my own gyrfalcon. We had, in these morphs, successfully blinded the Controller and taken out one of his ears. We could not, in these morphs, really experiment with killing him.

And they were the only morphs we had. I was going to have to remedy that.

(We can't let him get away from us,) I said to Jordan, turning around. (He might tell the Yeerks things we don't want them to know. We have to keep him out here, and we need to keep a mark on where he is.) I shook my head. (Of course, we also need to demorph and remorph, eat, and, if possible, eliminate him. But none of our morphs will do that. So…)

(We're going to need a few better morphs if we want him out,) Jordan finished glumly. (Any ideas?)

I would have shrugged. Of course, you can't shrug in mid air. Jaguar. (Some kind of big cat, anyway. A bear, maybe.)

(Because we all know big cats and bears abound in the National Forest,) Jordan said sarcastically.

(They've got them at The Gardens.)

For a minute, Jordan was silent. (You want to go visit an amusement park?) she said incredulously. (I thought we were supposed to be lying low.)

(Can we go on the roller coaster?) Sara chimed in.

(I was thinking of going in after hours,) I told Jordan. (There won't be anybody to see us. Well, see me.)

(If you think I'm going to let you just fly off and -) Jordan cut herself off. (We need to stick together. Sara, the rollercoaster will be shut down at night.)

(Oh,) Sara said dejectedly.

(Look on the bright side,) I told her. (You'll get to see all the animals without needing to pay an entrance fee.)

We landed further out and dug around in a small meadow, searching for food. Jordan found mushrooms, and we tried to work out if they were poisonous. I was against the idea of tasting them, because I wasn't sure if poison came under the heading of 'things you can morph away'. After I dug up an onion and a turnip, we gave up on the mushrooms and ate those instead.

They didn't really soothe our hunger, or our exhaustion. We'd been morphing on too little food.

We spent the rest of the afternoon out there, scavenging for what we could find. Our efforts produced a few plants we knew we could eat, but nothing really filling. Still, it entertained us, kept us distracted. We found several mice at one point, and Sara gazed at them, enchanted.

We also found an owl.

Owls fly at night.

After sunset, we walked up the slope of the meadow. We stood beside a rock. And we began to morph.

It was different to our other bird morphs. But there were a few important similarities: They were birds. They were hunters. And they had great eyesight. The mind of the owl, when it rose up, was close enough to the mind of the gyrfalcon that I had no trouble with it.

We took off together, a well-trained squadron of owls swooping silently through the dark forest. It was the first time I'd been awake at night, and the animals that came out fascinated me.

The Gardens was a few miles away, right back in town. There were guards posted, but an owl flies silently.

We landed in the centre of the zoo section. It was very quiet. The animals were mostly sleeping. Or, if they were not sleeping, they saw no need to make a fuss.

It was very secretive. Very thrilling.

"Now, you girls stay here," I whispered once I'd got my bearings. "Don't go near the gates. Hide if you hear people coming. You can walk around and look at the animals around here, but don't go into any cages, okay?"

"Why can't we come with you?" Sara asked, reaching up to touch my face.

"Because I –I'm going to do something else, and if you're there it might be more difficult. But if you stay here, nothing can happen to you."

I saw Jordan working it out –Translation: I'm going to climb into cages with cranky wild animals and I'd rather you didn't see me get butchered.

The jaguar exhibit was down in the big cat area, just over from the leopards. I got in by hoisting myself up and over the rails, then climbing down the access ladder.

It was very dark in the exhibit. The trees rustled faintly. I could not see more than maybe five feet away. And it occurred to me that I would not be able to see the jaguar, either. Not until it dropped right out of the tree onto my head…

I walked through the exhibit, so nervous I swear the jaguar could have found me just from the rattling of my bones. And I was nearly to the other side when I saw it.

It was stretched out on a low branch, just out of arm's reach.

I froze.

If the jaguar decided to defend its territory, I was dead meat.

One yellow eye looked at me.

The jaguar was calm. Strong. Utterly confident.

But it didn't necessarily like having me here.

I reached out, trembling. My hand rested lightly on its shoulder.

The jaguar began to growl deep in its chest. I could feel the vibrations up through my fingers. I focused very hard on that sound. I focused very hard on the retracted claws. I focused like anything on the fact that jaguar jaws could have comfortably bitten my arm off.

Then the sound died away as the acquiring trance took hold. The yellow eye closed.

I held the process for as long as I dared before breaking contact and bolting for the ladder.

Behind me there was a snarl.

I went up that ladder like I was flying, barely touching the wall. The jaguar –the _other_ jaguar, stopped at the bottom and bared her teeth, raking at the wall as she tried to get at me. Her claws gouged the cement just bare inches behind my heels. I vaulted over the top of the wall and landed in a crouch on the walkway.

By the time I'd stopped shaking, the jaguars had succeeded in rousing the leopards. I walked out of the big cat section and headed for the bears. Why I did that, when I'd already had one bone-rattling experience with dangerous animals that night, I don't really know. I guess I thought, inasmuch as I _did_ think, that I would need to be able to smash stuff.

Or maybe I was just on a roll of adrenaline.

The grizzly bear is the biggest carnivore on Earth.

No, actually. The grizzly bear is the biggest _omnivore_ on Earth, and as such it isn't always searching for meat. The biggest _carnivore_ on land is still a bear, but it's the polar, not the grizzly.

Fortunately, bears of any kind tend to get a bit lazy when they've fed well. And these polar bears were used to humans being around. Wiser to the danger this time, I got in and out as quickly as I could.

I walked back through The Gardens with my heart pounding and the blood thrumming in my head. My hands were shaking from fear and exhilaration. It was harder to stand upright.

I got back to find the girls gone.

I'd been afraid. But this was an entirely new kind of fear –one that seeped through every inch of me as I looked for them desperately. _Not gone, please not gone, I'll do anything…_

Behind the benches. Not there.

In the trees. Nothing.

I tore around the cages, searching. Maybe they'd just gone around to look at –

No. They weren't there.

"Jordan!" I called softly. "Sara!"

"Tom!"

I heard Jordan's feet scuffling against the ground as she hurried towards me with a dark grin on her face. Sara was right behind her, eyes bright with excitement.

"We saw a cheetah!" she panted proudly.

I hugged her impulsively. Just to make sure she was real. I hugged her tight and reached out to grip Jordan's hand.

"I was worried," I said quietly, straightening up.

Jordan bit her lip. "It was okay. You said we could look at the animals. There was one time when this guard came up, but we hid behind a bin and he didn't see us." She looked up at me. "Come on, there have to be some bright spots, right?"

I didn't really have anything to say to her about that. But I did get the feeling she wasn't telling me everything.

On our way out, we stopped at the shop and found some information on wild mushrooms.


	9. Thunderflap

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the morphing cube; I just own the crazy things I've done with them.

Chapter eight: Thunderstorm Flying.

When we got back to our camp, the Hork-Bajir was gone.

Of course he was gone. Even blinded, half-deaf, he was able to move. Slowly, as we ate and flew and finally made our trip to The Gardens, he blundered out of our little clearing and away through the forest.

The fire had been kicked about with his passing. Only a few embers still glowed. We piled them together and coaxed some life from them, until we had a small fire going. At least we were warm.

He'd slashed his razor-sharp blades through the foliage and vegetation when he went. He couldn't see properly, but that's not much when you can cut aside every obstacle you encounter. He'd left a trail a human could follow, let alone an owl. We could have gone straight after him then and there, or I could.

But we were tired. Our things were intact, what we had. We just wanted to sleep. I just wanted to forget.

The ground was hard. But it's funny, you know. At first we could sleep on it just because we were tired, and even then it took a while to drop off. And now we were still tired, but the hardness didn't seem so unnatural any more. People are more adaptive than they think.

I woke up in the middle of the night to a horrible scream.

For a moment, I was confused. Then my brain snapped everything together and I scrambled up, searching for a threat.

No threat. Just Sara, screaming where she lay. She was twisting and thrashing in her sleep.

"Sara! Sara, wake up!"

Her blue eyes opened.

"Tom?"

I pulled her back against me. "It's okay, Sara. It was just a nightmare. It can't hurt you."

She shifted to get closer. "Mum. Pool."

Well. That about explained it.

"We'll get her back," I said. It was all I _could_ say. The only thing that might have any of the truth in it, no matter how remote.

"When?"

"Soon." I let her get comfortable. "We'll get in, one day. We'll find your mum, and then we'll take her away from the city and we'll find a place to keep her. And then, three days later, the Yeerk will be dead."

"Dead?" Sara asked sleepily.

"They need to swim in the Pool to absorb Kandrona rays. After three days without them, they starve to death. And then the Yeerk will come out and your mum will be free again."

"'S good…" Sara's voice trailed off as she fell asleep.

I stared into the darkness and didn't say anything.

Morning came slowly. I fell asleep halfway through the night and woke up again to an aching back.

This time, we didn't hang around waiting for food to come to us. I left Jordan in charge of Sara and took to the air, searching the sky.

The gyrfalcon knew instinctively how to fly. I was hoping it knew how to hunt, too. If it didn't…well, I'd just have to learn. And that would be difficult.

I needn't have worried. The gyrfalcon instincts were all set and ready for the challenge.

There were ducks again, this time travelling between a mountain lake and the marsh at The Gardens. They flew in an arrow-shape, wings beating steadily. Occasionally one of them would glance up. I cautiously loosened my hold on the bird's instincts.

_There,_ I told it, looking at the ducks.

Automatically, I picked out a target. I adjusted my wings and moved to get into the perfect place for a strike. I allowed for the speed and direction of the flock. I made some last-minute changes, brought my talons up, and came in at a fast, low sweep.

My talons sank into the duck's body. I brought my beak down on the neck. The flock scattered with quacks of alarm. I ignored them and focused on the prize in my claws.

_I did it!_ I, personally, had succeeded in bringing down a bird. I'd caught our meal. We would have meat.

Triumph. That's what I felt. Everyone has to be able to say: This was difficult, but I did it.

I dropped towards the ground, flaring my wings at the last second.

It was only as I landed that I realised something important. The meat of a duck is under the skin. We had no knives to get the skin off with.

Sara was distracted from the rather bloody picture I'd brought back by means of a holly tree and an instruction to look for edible mushrooms. Jordan and I stared at the duck and wondered what to do with it.

"Don't they cook in stone pits in some places? Or we could spit the meat on a stick."

"How do we get at it, though?"

"Uhh…" Jordan chewed a strand of hair. "I don't know, maybe we could cut through with our beaks?"

I shuddered in disgust. "Ugh." I remembered my triumph at catching the bird. Now that I was human again, I felt sickened. The sinking, squelching feeling –the _crack_…

Jordan shook her head. "You have no problem with ripping that alien open and you don't like _this_?" Given the look on her face, though, she didn't seem fond of the idea herself.

"That's it!" I snapped my fingers. "Hork-Bajir blades. We could cut the skin off with Hork-Bajir blades."

"Right. Where are we going to get them?"

In the end we settled for Jordan's suggestion, awful as it was.

"Hey, Sara! Hungry?"

The shreds of duck meat had been set out on a semi-flat piece of stone and were frying on the fire. Sara's button mushrooms were neatly lined up on my discarded jacket. A few blackberries lay in a heap nearby.

All together, it was the best meal I'd tasted for a long time. The duck was charred and bloody, the blackberries half-hearted, and the mushrooms a little odd, but it was great to eat something that tasted even remotely proper and filling again. It gave us enough energy to resume our walk, feeling properly awake for once.

We walked for another day, with the occasional break to take a flight. The day was cloudy, though, with a bite in the air. Morphing just for fun took energy that we didn't really have to spare.

"Okay," I said, steadying myself against a tree after one such flight. "From now on, until we find a regular food source, nobody morphs unless there's a reason for it." I shook my head wearily and reached for a small apple.

"Does this count as a reliable food source?" Jordan asked with a mischievous smirk. She sat on the grass and plucked one for herself. I offered another to Sara. She bit into it hungrily.

"Shree swwwaaaa!"

I froze. I went completely still with my teeth still sunk into the apple. Jordan and Sara seemed oblivious. They just kept munching.

"Shh!"

Both of them shot me questioning looks. I strained my ears, listening for that sound. Listening for something…

There it was again –faint but unmistakeable. The screeching, hissing form of Taxxon speech.

It made my blood run cold. They couldn't be too far away. Taxxon voices don't carry that far. You can hear one Taxxon from about fifty metres away under ideal sound conditions. I estimated, very roughly, that the Taxxon I was hearing now was probably about twenty metres away.

Well, that was all right. It might miss us.

Yeah, and dogs may lose their sense of smell.

"Taxxon," I said quietly.

"What's that?"

"Huge yellow centipede four metres long with a lot of teeth and a big appetite. They can smell meat from miles away. All voluntary Controllers." I took a quick look around. No time… "Sara, get up the tree."

I helped her up into the sturdiest tree I could find. Then I helped Jordan up into another and told them both to morph birds. I didn't want them too far away, but I wanted them to be able to escape if they had to.

I wasn't so worried for myself. I could manage. But the thought of those two in danger –more than they were already in –made me shudder.

Jordan was growing feathers and Sara was halfway harrier when the first Taxxon came wriggling through the scrub up the trail we'd made.

Yeah, the _first_ Taxxon.

"Yah!" Jordan yelped. Bad move. The Taxxon's red jelly eyes locked on her tree. I ducked back, into some cover, and frantically focused my mind on the jaguar.

"Herun galash!" bellowed a Hork-Bajir voice. Sara was making a funny whimpering noise with what was left of her human throat. Her morph seemed to have come to a stop. She perched in her tree, a misshapen creature with broad, flat arms and melted feet. I could hear the Hork-Bajir slashing through the undergrowth.

I heard Jordan take a deep breath.

_Jaguar_, I thought. I remembered the spotted, rosette fur. I focused on the yellow eyes and retracted claws. I imagined a jaw that could bite through bone.

A long tail sprouted from my spine. My fingers shortened. My knees reversed.

The Taxxon screeched about seven feet away from me. Its long tongue reached up towards Jordan. She kicked at it wildly, and yelled, "Morph!" to Sara.

My face crunched outwards into a muzzle. My shoulders narrowed and angled back against my spine. My elbows crept upwards.

Another Taxxon came writhing and scuttling up to the trees, to hiss and gape hungrily at Sara.

My puny human fingernails became razor-sharp retractile cat's claws. Spotted fur sprouted in a wave.

And then…the jaguar mind.

A predator mind, again. But this was not a bird. It had no interest in wind speed, in how to strike from above. No, the jaguar was a different kettle of fish.

Calm. Confident. Powerful. It was a mind that knew how to hunt and lie concealed. It was a mind that did not fear the strange, reeking beasts only a few feet away. The jaguar had no concept of fear. Poisonous snakes, another big cat –those, and those alone, were things it might be cautious of.

I smiled grimly inside. I liked it. I bared my teeth in a snarl.

This was a forest. And the jaguar owned forests.

I leapt out, claws extended.

Two Taxxons. One Hork-Bajir, who was slashing ineffectually at the branches of Jordan's tree. I went straight for the nearest Taxxon with all my claws out.

I didn't bite. I didn't have to. My claws raked through skin as weak as a thick plastic bag. Circular jaws reached hungrily for me, but I soared straight over them with the strength of a cat's fluid spring. I landed on its back, gathered myself up, and tore it open with a few swipes from my front paws.

The Taxxon screamed. I dropped away from it. Above me, Jordan shouted, (Tom!)

The Hork-Bajir faced me. He faced me with one working eye and one ear. The other eye and ear had been ruined by vicious talons.

He raised his bladed arms and bounded towards me. I answered with a coughing grunt and bounded towards him. We met in a whirl of spotted fur and dark skin and long teeth and slicing blades.

One blade nicked my ribs. Another cut my front paw. I didn't even notice, except in a way that made me angry. I landed, moved with coiled speed, gathered myself, and jumped again.

Most cats kill with a bite to the neck. The jaguar does not. It goes the more direct route: Straight in through the back of the skull.

My jaws closed on the back of his snake-like head. I met resistance, but the jaguar jaw was designed for this.

I was very, very lucky that all the horns are in the front. Otherwise, I'd have received a mouthful of blade.

The Hork-Bajir dropped, with me still perched on his back.

That left just one Taxxon. I stepped away from the dead Hork-Bajir and snarled at it menacingly.

The Taxxon decided he'd like to leave. But then he caught the smell of his brother Taxxon, currently spilling his guts out.

(Look away,) I called up to Sara.

I attacked as he barrelled past me, scoring huge ruptured lines down him. The Taxxon was so intent on his meal that he didn't even notice. I jumped up onto him and tore until he collapsed.

Then I stepped away, feeling empty. Drained. A killer four times over in just that day. And yet I didn't regret a single one of the deaths. Instead I felt…what? Success? Relief?

(Come on down,) I said quietly as I began my demorph. (Keep clear of all the mess.)

Jordan looked around as she half-climbed, half-flapped down to ground level. (I guess we'd better find somewhere else,) she said.


	10. Sparrowhawk

Disclaimer: I don't own _Animorphs_, or their relatives.

**Jordan.**

Hi. My name's Jordan. I'm a twelve-year old girl from America, I live out in the woods, and occasionally I turn into a sparrowhawk.

I was angry. Very angry.

See, a while ago –not really all that long at all –my cousin, Tom, grabbed me and my sister Sara out of our house. Our house was about to fall down. People were shooting at it. Tom grabbed us and got us out. He didn't get Mom out.

Mom didn't die.

You've probably heard how Tom did the rest of it –gave us the morphing power, helped us get bird morphs, and finally faked our deaths by causing an explosion.

You've probably not heard that I watched my family being infested. My mother and my older sister, Rachel. Way above them, in sparrowhawk morph, I watched them being dragged to the Yeerk pool and having their heads shoved under the sludge.

I watched it. You see, I wanted to know, very specifically, what they'd done to my family. Not because I enjoyed it. Because I wanted to pay them back.

That's why I was angry at Tom.

Well, that and the fact that he'd been dragging me about the woods for however long. Probably about a week. That's a week with no beds, no proper clothing, no cooked food, no clean water, and no comfort in general.

"I want to fight," I told him. "I saw what they did to Mom and Rachel. I want to fight."

"No," he said again.

"What, you're going to fight them all on your own?"

"You might end up _dead_, Jordan!"

I laughed bitterly. "Oh, yeah, like _that's_ going to happen."

"It's very likely, as it happens –"

"I don't _care_! You do it, you fight them!"

Tom looked at Sara, who was sleeping. "Jordan, be quiet. You'll wake her up."

My eyes narrowed. "And that's all you care about. Keeping Sara safe." I stood up. "I'm –to the Devil with this!"

I stalked away, morphing to sparrowhawk as I went. I heard Tom coming after me. Well, let him. He'd never catch me. I took wing and flew.

I didn't go above the trees. I stayed low instead, weaving in and out. It's the kind of thing that a sparrowhawk's good at, being a woodland hunter. They're fast and agile, good at manoeuvring, although they can do proper high flying as well. I liked that speed. It made me feel like a proper hunter as I dodged around the trees. Tom's gyrfalcon morph was not so nimble; he'd have to fly high to look for me.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a sparrow. The sparrowhawk brain wanted it, but I quickly overruled the instinct. I had bigger prey to hunt.

Alien prey.

I flew and flew for what might have been hours. Far away from the family I had left. Far away from Tom and Sara, and the blue box we carried with us.

Suddenly, ahead of me! A glimpse of yellow through the trees. I flared my wings and slowed, flying closer. Another glimpse of yellow, a hissing voice –

_Taxxon!_ I landed on a branch before it could spot my movement.

Wait…not a Taxxon. There were three, four…six of them in all. They were accompanied by something I hadn't seen at first, since they blended in. Two, four Hork-Bajir warriors were with them.

I wanted to attack. Oh, man, I wanted to attack.

Unfortunately, sparrowhawks are not the greatest predators of the natural world. They have sharp talons and beaks, but basically you're talking a brown and grey bird a couple of feet across against something two metres tall with up to thirteen blades attached.

So I did something else, instead. I watched. See, those aliens had got my curiosity up. What were they doing out here in the woods? I wanted to know. Maybe it'd be useful. Maybe it'd be something I could use to get Rachel back.

They were moving west, more or less, according to my rather vague sense of direction. They weren't going particularly fast –I could fly faster, no sweat –but unfortunately they'd soon notice a sparrowhawk flying after them. Luckily for me, there was another option.

I flew away from them –far enough that they wouldn't hear or see me easily. I landed. Demorphed. And I morphed again, to a different animal.

I grew grey fur. My arms and legs sucked in. A tail sprouted. I was morphing a squirrel.

The morph seemed to take far too long. I was impatient. I wanted to get after those Taxxons and Hork-Bajir, and every second I was morphing I lost time on them. I'd have to catch them up once I was morphed, and I was not looking forward to it.

Then I was done. And, just as I was looking around for a tree to climb, the squirrel brain surfaced.

YAAAAHH!

You have to understand: The only thing I'd morphed so far was a sparrowhawk. I'd picked up the squirrel DNA, the way I acquire anything that might be useful, but I hadn't actually _morphed _a squirrel before.

So, I was totally unprepared for the crazy squirrel brain.

The squirrel freaked out. Before I knew it, I was zooming across the dirt like an out-of-control car. I jinked and scurried and ran over tree roots, with what was left of the human me trying frantically to get a grip.

_Tree!_ I stopped. Straight stop. I went from what felt like the speed of sound to not moving in about a second. I sat up. I looked at the tree. I ran _up_ the tree. Fast. Ever seen a squirrel climb a tree? I did that.

Finally, with a struggle, I regained control. At that point, however, I had completely lost my orientation. I had no idea where the Yeerks were.

"Srreeeee sssshhweee!"

Oh. Right beneath me.

Well, that was good. I edged over the bough and looked down. Yep, there was a Taxxon. And there was a Hork-Bajir. Still just walking along. Easy enough for me to follow, though I had to make quite a few detours trying to find branches.

We went along, my alien friends and I, still heading –as far as I could tell –straight west. I entertained myself by imagining what I would do to them if I got the opportunity. I have a good imagination. The running and climbing –which the squirrel brain didn't mind at all –helped a bit. It felt so cool!

To my surprise, the little alien entourage stopped suddenly. I wasn't ready, and eventually came to a stop two or three branches ahead of them. When I'd got my balance back and sorted my directions out, I watched them inquisitively.

They weren't doing anything, as far as I could tell. They just stood there, like they were waiting for something. Or maybe waiting for someone.

Then…footsteps! Someone crunching through the leaves. I jerked my head sharply. Who was it? _What_ was it? I peered down at the group with my beady little eyes.

Crunch, crunch. Thump.

The human came to a stop beneath me. That was bad. I couldn't see properly what they looked like –what _he_ looked like, because it was a guy. All I could see of him was a bit of his shoulders and the top of his head. Kind of like what people look like to a bird, only blurrier.

I could tell that this guy was who the Controllers had been waiting for. They all straightened up, standing at attention.

"Well?" the human said, with a weirdly familiar voice. "Have you found any sign of them?"

"No, Visser," one of the Hork-Bajir replied. "No _narhat _sign."

"Idiots!" the man snapped. "Over twenty Hork-Bajir, over twenty escaped hosts, and you can't find them? They should stand out, shouldn't they?"

I frowned. Well, inside my mind I frowned. It's not easy to frown with a squirrel face. I was trying to understand. Twenty Hork-Bajir? Escaped hosts? Hork-Bajir that weren't Controllers, but were free?

_Free Hork-Bajir…_

These Yeerks were looking for free Hork-Bajir. They were hunting escaped hosts. That didn't sit too well with me. To my mind, anyone who's been a Controller and escaped is an ally. An ex-Controller is someone with reason to hate the Yeerks. And I didn't particularly like the idea of free Hork-Bajir being hunted down.

Below me, the Hork-Bajir spokesman was explaining that the forest was very large, and offered a lot of places for the fugitives to hide. Finding tracks was also difficult, as Hork-Bajir are apparently arboreal. Their only chance of finding anyone was by finding large amounts of bark-stripped trees, and in a forest this size, that could take months.

I smiled. This was good. It would make a welcome change from the unrelenting stream of bad news which seemed to follow us around.

The man below seemed unimpressed. "Well, make it take less. I have business to attend to. Continue with the search." With that, he walked away.

I scrutinised the group of searchers. They seemed pretty reluctant to go back out and keep searching. I, for one, was reluctant to _let_ them go back out and keep searching.

Hmm. What to do?

Get rid of them.

Well, yes. That was obvious. But how?

And then it occurred to me. I _could_ do it. Maybe not take them all down together, on my own, but I could definitely hurt some of them. I could probably kill some of them. It all depended on how fast they were. How prepared they were. Whether they would split up.

To my delight, they did split up. Walking away from me, heading north, they split into groups of two and spread out, a short distance from each other.

I toyed briefly with the idea of going to get Tom. But I didn't know what this part of the forest looked like from the air, didn't know exactly where I was, and –more importantly –I realised that I had no idea where I'd left Tom and Sara. Fetching help would take too long.

Besides, I didn't need help.

I returned to ground level. I demorphed. I took a deep breath to steady myself.

Then I went into the morph. It was another morph I hadn't practiced, and, in fact, should not have had. But it was a good morph, fast and strong, with sharp teeth and claws. And, in that morph, I would have a fighting chance.

I've always liked cheetahs.

The long tail sprouted as my spine extended crazily. My sturdy human body thinned out, down to bone and muscle, making me more speed-efficient. My face reformed into a muzzle. My ears shifted up my head. I dropped to all fours.

The cheetah mind kicked in. Instantly, my head came up. I sniffed once, twice.

The cheetah was uneasy. It was not a forest creature. The trees denied it its primary advantage: Speed. There were no flat, clear tracts of land over which it could pursue its prey.

But for all that, it was a dangerous body. And I liked it.

I loped forwards, sniffing. My sense of smell was much better in this morph. I picked up the lingering, distinct reek of Taxxon. Plus another, different smell which I hoped was Hork-Bajir. I could tell, more or less, which way they'd gone.

The sensible thing to do –as Marco told me much, much later –would have been to go after the two Taxxons who were together. Having seen the two species fight, I knew by then that Hork-Bajir are far more dangerous. Taking on two of anything at once, when this was the first time I'd even used the cheetah morph, was tricky enough –fighting Taxxons, which burst and so on fairly easily, would have made sense.

I like a challenge, though. Pricking my ears, I loped off after one of the pairs which included a Hork-Bajir.

It wasn't long before I heard them through the trees. Taxxons make a sound you just can't miss –like a very large millipede. Hork-Bajir make this kind of dragging, scuffling noise. Soon after that, I caught sight of them. They were both looking away from me, intent on their task. _Perfect._

I sped up. I was not too far from them, and the undergrowth hindered my movement. I pushed through, and the leaves rustled loudly.

The Hork-Bajir looked around. He stared.

I guess he knew I was a threat, but he didn't seem to know what to do about me.

Too late, too bad.

I lunged forward and jumped. He was two metres tall; a cheetah stands maybe a metre or so at the shoulder. My jump lifted me up. It put my head nicely on a level with the base of his neck.

I bit at him. Blast! Missed! At least, I'd missed the neck. My jaws had taken a chunk out of his chest, but nothing serious. He was bleeding, though. That made me happy. I landed awkwardly and twisted to face him.

In return, he slashed at me with his wrist blade. I had to scramble backwards to avoid it. I hissed at him angrily and he slashed again, barely missing me.

Enough was enough.

People I know –usually Tom –often say that I have no idea of the difference between when to attack and when to back away. Basically, I _never _back away. Especially not when I'm mad. So I went for him again. This time, I used my paws, as well as my teeth. I snapped at his abdomen and followed up by slashing my claws across the wound.

The Hork-Bajir yelled something at me. I've no idea what. He kicked out at me. Kicked out with his clawed foot and his deadly knee blade. I ducked under the blade, but the claws scraped my shoulder. I felt them break the skin with a burst of pain.

Bleeding? Was I bleeding? I looked at the wound. Yes, I was bleeding. Red blood was spilling from the cuts. And the area hurt when I moved it.

My head snapped back to the Hork-Bajir just in time for me to avoid a scything kick that would have cut through my head. And now, not too far away, I could hear other Hork-Bajir approaching. When they got here, I would be seriously outnumbered.

And it wasn't like it was a fair fight anyway. This Hork-Bajir alone was being tricky to handle. Standing in the forest, bold as brass –

Standing in _my_ forest. With Sara somewhere in it, and free Hork-Bajir. On my planet. On Earth!

How _dare_ he?

My eyes narrowed. I snarled with rage. I coiled my haunches, and I leapt.

I ripped at his throat and went over his shoulder. I landed on the Taxxon. I slashed at it with a furious noise and spun around again, using the Taxxon as a launch-pad to power my jump at the side of the alien's neck. My teeth took out skin, muscle, and something more important.

He dropped to the ground. As he fell, his tail blades hit the Taxxon, splitting it.

I'd won.

I had _won._

I stood there by the corpses of my enemies and knew that I'd beaten those two. It felt good.

Then the remaining Taxxons came crashing through the trees and I had to leap to avoid being bitten. But it still felt good.


End file.
